Somewhere down the road
by CosmoReader
Summary: An alternative universe where Anastasia Steele signs the contract and agrees to be Christian Grey's submissive/GF for a year. All is well until it's not. She wants a real relationship, he doesn't. They end their relationship and go in separate ways. He becomes even more successful while she moves to New York to become an editor. What happens if their paths cross three years later?
1. Prologue

**Somewhere down the road**

**Summary:** An alternative universe where Anastasia Steele signs the contract and agrees to be Christian Grey's submissive/more for a year. All is well until it's not. She wants a real relationship, he doesn't. They end their relationship and go in separate ways. He becomes even more successful while she moves to New York to become an editor. What happens if their paths cross three years later, when Ana returns to Seattle to visit her friends?

* * *

**Prologue: Three years ago **

"Ana, we've been through this shit! It's not that easy. I'm fifty shades fucked up, I'm not capable of giving you what you want!" he thunders, both his hand automatically reaching for his hair in frustration. I feel like shit every time he says those words. _Ouch._

"But –" I try to say but he immediately cuts me off.

"Aren't you happy with our arrangement, Ana?"

Of course he'll call this an arrangement. Not a _relationship._ I sigh. I know better. I should've known better. We've been together for a little over a year now. This _arrangement_ I call Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde or in layman's terms, A dominant/boyfriend relationship where he gets the kick out of beating me to almost kibbles, fucking me like there's no tomorrow and holding me as I cry myself to sleep every time it gets too much for me, then makes sweet love to me to make-up and to assure me that everything is okay. In return, I get to call him my _boyfriend_, I get to spend time with him outside his playroom and sometimes, his penthouse. I get all the privilege a girlfriend can ask for. Well, not everything. I still can't touch him, but at least our friends and his family think of me as his girlfriend when we're with them. But once back in his ivory tower, I can't be the girlfriend in full time, because I also have to be submissive in this arrangement. Arrangement he likes to call _kinky business._

"Answer me, Anastasia," he commands, breaking me out of my reverie.

"I don't know anymore, Christian," I whisper as the tears that I've been fighting begin flood my eyes. I take a deep breath, willing the tears to stop to face him. Here goes…

"Christian, I don't want to sound like a needy, nagging person but I can't do the submissive thing anymore. It's not just the submissive thing, it's the whole arrangement. I can't play both roles simultaneously. I can't say 'yes sir' and defy you at the same time. I can't, I can't… I just want a normal relationship. I just want to be with you and not worry about you getting back at me in your playroom just because I said something you didn't like, it's exhausting," I finish, letting it all out, in the hopes that maybe he'll agree. Maybe we can just be together; a couple – a less kinky couple, I guess. His silence tells me that he is thinking, maybe contemplating or just plain upset that he can't find the right words to say – but I'm too much of a coward to look up and gauge his reaction.

"So, you don't want this anymore?" I hear him say. I sigh and finally look up to meet his guarded stance. Again, _ouch. This'll hurt, I can feel it. _

"I want a normal relationship, Christian."

"Answer the question, Anastasia!" he snaps.

I yelp at the tone of his voice, while the partial submissive in me is already cowering on one corner. I don't answer, I simply shake my head. A silent no. I hear him sigh, then I feel his hands on mine.

"Ana, you know I'm not capable of_ that_ kind of relationship. I don't love; I'm much too dark, too fucked-up…"

"That's not true, we've been together for a year. That right there is proof that you capable of…"

"Enough!" he says authoritatively. His gray eyes shouldering in anger and both his hands are on his head once again. "Let's not rehash, Anastasia. I'm tired of talking about this shit. You need sleep, it's late and you have work tomorrow."

This happens all the time. Every time I try to talk to him he snaps then shuts down. He rarely give me answers. He always finds something to stop the conversation. It's so frustrating. At first he would distract me with sex, which was good… good enough to forget. But when that stopped working, he would take me to his playroom, where that almost broke us apart when he hit me too much, so he started doing this… shutting down, then sulking thing for a few days until I return for our _weekend get together. _Where he would act all nice and sweet and gentle. Until of course I bring this _shit_ up, again. Don't judge, yet. I have my reasons. I love him and I would gladly take his punishments and kinky stuffs but… well, I'm not a saint and frankly, I don't think my body won't bare any of the punishment stuff anymore. Anyways, going back to the subject at hand, the very few times we've had these type of discussion, I would just brush it off, knowing I would have another chance to bring it up again next time. But after two months of trying, I'm running out of options and frankly, I'm running out of time. So for the last time, I steel myself, telling myself that it's for the best over and over again.

_Here goes…_

"Christian, I believe we've come to an impasse," I say, bowing my head to avoid those gray eyes as I try to fight back the tears threatening to come out.

"What?" he says, incredulously.

"I'm sorry, Christian. I love you but can't do this anymore."


	2. Trigger

**Trigger**

"We need to talk, Missy," says the authoritative voice of my boss, Heather Morrison, as she breezes into my office in her immaculate perfection. As the CEO and Editor-in-Chief for Morrison Group, one of the biggest lifestyle brands in the country, Heather dresses the part very well with her long silky and super straight blond hair, crisp white shirt, skinny ankle pants, high heels and square reading glasses, she is the epitome of what her company is like – classy and effortless. Heather was once an IT executive who founded a lot of start-up tech companies, nurtured them for success, then selling them to the highest bidder. She is good at what she does; make money, lots of it. Technology was something she is very good at, but it was never her passion. So she worked and saved enough to finally focus on combining her real passion which is fashion and all things media. Heather wanted a successful women-owned lifestyle and media company and she got it. And I'm extremely lucky to be a part of it.

"Oh, so I'm Missy today, am I in trouble?" I reply in mock worry. Heather likes to call everyone names. The names differ depending on her mood. I for one, being her favorite person in the world (according to her) have several names. I am Ana, when she's all motherly and caring and generally in a good mood. She also calls me, Steele or kid, when she's excited and bossy, which happens almost all the time. Today, I am Missy, because I'm in a little bit of trouble, nothing serious, though. And like any other mother hen, she calls me Anastasia, if I'm in really deep shit.

"Not to me," she replies breezily as she gracefully takes a seat right in front of me. "We'll get to that trouble in a bit," she adds dismissively which is fine by me, because this means it's a no biggy.

"Please don't tell me you're setting me up with your guy friends again," I guess in horror. Yes, I've been single for a while but after a failed relationship in Seattle and after everything that I've been through after Seattle, I really have no time to mingle. Mind you, I tried. I am, after all, anything but a saint. Unfortunately, none of them panned out. And being a sucker for a challenge, my boss, yes, my boss/mentor/older sister/friend has tried setting me up with all, if not, most of her male friends. So far, none of them worked-out. Except for Brett who I've become good friends, instead of boyfriend, much to Heather's disappointment.

"Uhm, no. I've given up on you ages ago," she smirks. I met Heather at a convention in New York, three and a half years ago, when I was still working for Seattle Independent Publishing, which later became Grey Publishing. I was assistant to Mr. Roach at the time and happily living in Seattle. But when the happy part changed into a _must get-out of Seattle_ _part,_ and I decided that it's time for a change, and that change is to move to New York, Heather was the first to welcome me. She offered me a job and which I gladly accepted. I started as Heather's personal and executive assistant, which was the only job opening at the time. A year later, she promoted me as editor at the lifestyle division, then a year and a half later, about six months ago to be exact, she promoted me to head the fiction department at the publishing division.

"Gee, thanks. What's up?"

"Ana, ask me about Hamptons, please?" she says excitedly. As the CEO of a multi-million dollar company, Heather has money, lots of it. She's owns several properties all over, some of them are in New York. She has a Penthouse in Manhattan with Central Park views, her current fortress. She still has her first apartment called, _single-lady_ on the Upper East Side, which she's renting to me for peanuts and of course, her newest baby, a summer place at the Southampton.

"Hi Heather, any news about the Hamptons?" I say sweetly.

"I'm glad you asked, Annie, my newest baby will be done in three weeks."

"Oh, yay! Congratulations, Heather!"

"Thank you, you and my little pot-sticker are invited to the grand reveal next month. I want you to personally write the feature for the next issue of the lifestyle magazine and I want you to contact your photographer friend, Jose and see if he can take the pictures that we can use for the article," she says, sweetly, while firing instructions left and right.

"I'm no writer," I try to tell her and she of all people knows it, but the severe look of my boss' face has me backtracking, "Yes, I'm an editor. Just don't expect the article to be immaculate like you."

"That's the spirit," Heather smugly replies. "Now, about your misdemeanor, Missy," he smug tone morphing into disapproving. See what I mean? Three seconds ago, I was Annie, now I'm back to Missy.

"Yeah, what is it anyway?" I say wearily, mentally recalling if I did anything bad recently. Nothing… that I am aware of.

"You need to take a vacation," she says dryly.

"What? You're suspending me? Is it that bad? What did I do anyway?" I say, panicking now. _Shit!_

"No, silly!" Heather's girly laugh made me relax a little. "HR went to me this morning with a list of employees who hasn't touch their accrued vacation hours and yearly vacation perks the company provides for free and guess what, you are on top of the list," she finish, her voice laced with disapproval.

"Oh… so… how does that count as misdemeanor?"

"For someone so smart and works for me, I might add, you can be very thick, Ana. You haven't taken even a day of vacation for two years and you know it's against company policy. We're a lifestyle and media company. Do you know why the word lifestyle goes first before the media?"

"To promote ones well-being," I say, sounding more like a two year old getting scold by her mother.

"Correct. That's why it's mandatory for all my employees to take annual week-long vacation on top of the earned PTO. The stress free and family environment is what makes this company, the _it_ company. And it doesn't make me happy to hear that my former assistant, best editor and favorite person in the world, is not abiding by the rules just because she got me and her dream job," she says vehemently, though her eyes are amused.

"There you have it, I got you and my dream job. Trust me, I enjoy doing this every day and I appreciate the whole stress free working environment, but I have lots to do and frankly, I don't know where else to go. My family and friends visit whenever they can."

"More like you don't want to make time, Ana. You are way too young to drown yourself with work. I mean, I applaud you, but even the most productive people need to step away from their dream job, to relax, recharge and most of all, spend time with family and friends. Besides, I'm sure Ray, Carla and your friends will be thrilled to have you."

"Really? When did you last go on vacation, boss?" I ask innocently, ignoring her last statement. I almost laugh at my boss' rosy blush. I'm pretty sure she's on top of that list from HR.

"The beauty of being a CEO and editor-in-chief is that, I can do whatever I want, so don't take that tone on me, Missy," she answers smugly. "You, my dear, are under _moi_, which means, I get to tell you to go and take a vacation, even though you've manage to put three of your author's in the New York Times best sellers list on your first month as Senior Editor, and also because the company will not fully reimburse your excess PTO, so you have no choice."

"Fine, I guess I'll go on a vacation. Now that I think about it, I haven't seen Ray in a while," I concede, knowing full well that she will nag me into submission.

"Good. It's settled then, email the details to HR, cc me and they'll take care of it for you," she says happily as she prepares to leave my office while get back to my work. "Oh, and Ana?"

"Yeah?"

"You go and have fun with your family and friends," she winks.

After settling the deal with HR, I was told to go on a three weeks of paid vacation, plus reimbursement for the excess PTO hours that I've accumulated over the past two years of none stop work. My vacation starts during the weekend which means I only have two days to prepare my team and myself and of course, to tell my family about my visit. I chose to stay in Seattle for the duration of my vacation since, my mom and her husband, Bob, visited very recently. Heather was right. My dad, Ray, was elated when I called and to tell him about my vacation and though he showed his elation through limited '_yes'_ and occasional grunts, I can tell he is excited since I haven't seen him since he visited a few years back. Kate, my best friend was ecstatic when I told her, even though like my mom, she tries to visit every chance she gets. She happily offered her apartment to me, volunteered to pick me up at the airport and also offering the latest news about our friends. Jose will open his latest exhibit, this time in Seattle, rather than in Portland while Kate's, older brother, Ethan very recently got engaged to his girlfriend of two years, Mia Grey.

"Oh wow! Way to go, Ethan!" I tell both my best friend, Katherine Kavanagh and Ethan, who happens to be in her apartment when I called.

"You know what that means, Ana," I hear Ethan say. My heart begins to sink.

"What would that be?" I ask innocently, though I think I already know what they'll say next.

"Duh?! You're officially invited, obviously," Kate states, matter-of-factly. Right. Being invited to Ethan and Mia's wedding would mean, I'll see _him_. I get to be in a room with my ex-boyfriend/dominant. Fantastic. Mind you, things ended amicably between us. I love him but he couldn't give me what I wanted and I couldn't give him what he wanted and needed in a relationship. So the natural thing for us to do is to end things between us, even though it hurt on my end, while he treated our relationship like a business deal gone sour. He didn't like the idea of separating just because of our differences any more than I did. I'll even go as far as to say that it angered him because he was, at least, at first, then as easy as snapping fingers, he masked his emotions and acted indifferent, which hurt me even more but nonetheless, it solidified my reason to leave. I shudder to think what his reaction would've been if I told him the other reason my decision leave him. To leave the place that i called home.

"Don't worry, Steele, you're not the only one. I suggest looking for a hot date though, if you know what I mean," she adds, when I didn't say a thing. Kate and Elliot's relationship ended soon after mine. I know that it was partially my fault, but Kate insist otherwise. She insist that Elliot cheated on her with an architect. But deep down, I know that Kate's protectiveness of me became the source of her and Elliot's arguments. Then my decision to move to New York a few weeks after my relationship with Elliot's brother ended, and the fact that he spent a drunken night with that architect, sealed the coffin between them.

"I don't need a pretend date, Kate. Remember, it ended amicably between us, no drama. Besides, everyone moved on. I mean, it's been what, three years?" I half lie, as my mind starts to replay everything that happened before I decided to pursue my career elsewhere.

"Whatever, Steele, let's talk more about the nuptials when you're here."

**xxxxxxxxx**

_ "Ladies and gentlemen, as we start our descent, please make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in their full upright position. Make sure your seat belt is securely fastened and all carry-on luggage is stowed underneath the seat in front of you or in the overhead bins. Please turn off all electronic devices until we are safely parked at the gate. Thank you."_

The disentangled voice of the pilot break my inner recollections of what transpired during the last few days leading up the now. As the plane carrying me back to my home town, back to my family and friends inch closer and closer after flight delays at JFK, alas, we are nearing the end of this dreadfully long five and a half hour flight. And in just a few moments, I will be back to the place that I once called home. The place with never ending gloomy gray sky, the place where I started my career, home to my family and friends and more importantly, home to the one person that I only ever loved. So far. So what if I'm not fully over the fact that this person didn't try to find out what the real reason behind my _needy _behavior? So what if it crushed me when the said person didn't even bother to stop me when I left? Yeah, yeah, I'm not fully over him, but I am doing my best because I now have other priorities like my life and career. But I guess the _one's __first__ love never truly dies_ saying applies to me too, I snort and shake my head at the thought. But before I my mind continues to add more snort-worthy thoughts, I feel warm hands touch mine. I look to see the still sleepy, innocent blue eyes meet mine. I smile fondly as my companion yawns and stretches comfortably from his seat, but again, the disentangled voice of the pilot alerts him.

_"Flight attendants, please take your seats for landing." _

My companion blinks a few times, then looks at me with worry etched on his beautiful face and say, "Mommy, I'm scared."


	3. Seattle

**Seattle**

I forgot the many possibilities a vacation has to offer to a single mom like me. A vacation allows a lot of time to do whatever one's heart desire. This means that I don't have to wake up at the crack of dawn to prepare the day for the two of us. No struggle to wake the little one who, like her mom, loves to sleep in, and is very hard to wake. Then there's the struggle to feed and prepare the little one for the day, then prepare thyself for work and worst of all, no daunting morning rush-hour commute at the New York subway with four bags and a toddler, drop off the said toddler to daycare, then rush to back to the subway for work, and then repeat the process eight hours later. If you're a single mom living in a big city, you know what I'm talking about. The list goes on and on, but when you're on vacation, everything goes out the window.

For the record, I am not complaining. I love my Teddy Bear and he is the apple of my eye, I just don't get why I waited two years and some nagging from my boss for this… me sitting leisurely in a bench at my Dad's backyard in Montesano, on a mid-afternoon of a beautiful and surprisingly warm spring sun. I am reading a manuscript on one hand, and a glass of refreshingly cool iced-tea on the other, while my baby boy is following his _Grampapa_ Ray everywhere he goes, or rather, Ray takes my baby boy everywhere he goes. Right now, they are busy watching the Mariner's play the Oakland Ace, Ray is introducing the game of baseball for the first time to my Ted. The sight of my baby boy trying his best to stay still is one of the most adorable thing I've ever seen. A Kodak moment for mommy. Yes, I like to document each and every step my baby boy make.

Rather than staying with Kate in Seattle for the whole duration of our vacation, I decided to stay with Ray for a week, instead of him driving two hours just so he can see Ted for a day or so. Besides, this vacation is not all about me, it's also about my Teddy. My handsome dark coppery brown haired, round blue eyes, smart and cute as a button young companion. I want my son to spend time with his _Grampapa Ray_ and I can tell the feeling is very mutual. Ray planned a whole weeks' worth of activities for us. Well, activities mostly for my fearless and energetic son, I'm only tagging along to prepare them food and to make sure Teddy isn't covered with mud. We've gone to Kelsey park where Ted played all day, rode a boat and gone fishing at Lake Sylvia, the sight of grandpa and grandson holding fish rods together is so cute, I had to take a picture, and lastly, barbecue and camping in the backyard, well they camped, I stayed inside and slept in the couch. It's been fun for the little one and tomorrow, Auntie Katie will pick us up for the next part of our vacation. We'll stay with her at her apartment in Seattle, do more fun stuff and hopefully meet Uncle Ethan for the first time. Of all my closest friends, only Ethan hasn't found out about Ted, yet. The thought make me uneasy.

"You okay, kid?" Ray's approach interrupt my musing.

"Yeah, who won?" I ask. The game must've finished as he starts preparing the grill for dinner.

"Mariners lost, Ted dozed off on the couch. I think the game bored him," he says, smiling fondly.

"Don't worry, at least he stayed with you the whole time."

"Yeah, he did," he chuckles. "So…" Ray begins to say, in the tone that I've come to recognize as his way of starting _that _conversation. My decision to move to New York was not just for my career. You see, I left Seattle before I reached my first trimester. For many reasons, fear included, I waited before telling my parents about my pregnancy. It took a lot of time to pluck up the courage and tell them that I was almost six months pregnant and to beg them not to ask who the father is. They were, of course, understandably upset but nevertheless respected my decision. Getting them to understanding doesn't mean they stopped asking me to reconsider my decision to leave the father clueless about this. My parents take turns into these kinds of conversations every chance they get and I understand, their reasons, are after all, valid. Yes, I could use some help, physically and financially and yes, Ted's father has the right to know, etc. etc. but the thing is, I kind of already know what his reaction is going to be. He won't be happy, I'm sure of it. I missed taking my pill once and he freaked out, thought that I did it on purpose, thought that _I _wanted to get pregnant on purpose, he warned me that he has the option – no – _he _has the right to tell me to _get rid of_ it, and I will never forget that one time. It is etched in my mind like a tattoo, so no – I refuse to see his reaction first hand, the moment it did happened (almost a year after I missed my pill) even though I was religious with my pill and yes, I chose to leave rather than being accused of something or worst… the thought makes me shiver.

"Dad… please, let's not rehash," I beg.

"Rehash what? I don't know what you're talking about," he backtracks, innocently.

"Please, you know what I'm talking about," I say, rolling my eyes. When I say that he and my mom take turns to talk to me every chance they get, I meant whenever my baby boy is out of earshot. Ted napping is one of them, actually, it's their best chance to have this kind conversations.

"Fine, humor me then. I was just wondering, you know, since you're going to Seattle, maybe…"

"I'm visiting my friends, dad, that's all. Mom visited a week before I was asked to go on a vacation and you haven't seen or visited since Ted's first birthday. Plus, all my friends are in living in Seattle, I haven't seen then in a while. Oh and Kate will murder me if don't visit her. She's dying to see Ted, even though she tries to visit every chance she gets. It's our turn to reciprocate, that's all," I say, finishing his words before he can even try to mention who he thinks is Ted's father is even though, I've given my _it was a one night thing with a random guy _excuse.

"He has the right to know, Ana. Whatever you think he might say or do, he has the right to know, that's all I'm saying," he eventually say, completely ignoring what I just said, as if to say that I am not fooling anyone but myself. Who am I kidding? One damn look and anyone with a right mind and eyes, I might add, would know that my baby boy is his father's son with his naturally tousled bronze hair that turns into luminous copper when directed to the sun, he is tall and smart for his age, has that serious look when he's concentrating on something, and very good looking – a real head turner. Rather than making up some kind of excuse, I chose to ignore my dads' latest attempts to talk me into confirming his and my mom's suspicions.

"He is growing up so fast," Ray says fondly, looking at the direction where my little boy is fast asleep. "I'm sure you know that eventually, he's going to start asking," he adds.

"I know, dad. He's already tall for his age and smart, but he's still my baby boy. I'm not ready for the growing up part just yet," I respond ruefully.

"Promise me one thing, Ana. When that day comes, don't lie, make excuses or shut down. Tell him the truth, will you?" he says thoughtfully. I suppress a sigh. How do I reply from that?

"I'm taking it one step at a time, dad. But when the time comes, I will tell him, just not now. I'm not ready, yet."

"Good. Anyway, so your friends know about Ted?" Ray asks, when he realize that I've once again shut down, like what I've grown accustomed to when people try to wheedle the information of me.

"So far, only Kate and Jose," I respond. My friends, Kate and Jose, only ever found out about Ted because of unexpected circumstances. Before you get upset, yes, I didn't want to tell my friends at first – even my best friend, Kate, it's not because I am ashamed or anything, but because I didn't want anyone to jump into conclusions and more importantly, I don't want the news to reach the wrong ears. I wanted a drama-free pregnancy and I certainly don't want a scandal, at least for Ted's dad. Anyway, going back to how my friends found out, Kate found out from the hospital the day I checked myself in because my water broke. The hospital couldn't reach both my parents, and Kate being my third emergency contact, answered the call. Jose on the other hand, found out when he showed up, unannounced, in my office and it was a _bring-your-kid-or-pet-Friday _in the office. Like my parents, my friends, Kate especially, both felt a mixture of stunned-disbelief, hurt and disappointment that I kept such news from them. Thankfully, after sixteen hours of labor (on Kate's part) and once I explained things to them, they were surprisingly understanding.

Once they've forgiven me from keeping such secret to them, the questions started popping, especially from my tenacious best friend that I resolved on playing the _shut-down_ card. It doesn't stop any of them from their suspicions though, for even my friends think that they know who my baby boy's father really is. And I refuse to confirm or say anything. As for Ethan, well, he hasn't showed up unannounced or anything, and Kate refuse to tell her brother either. She thinks that it's my story to tell, not hers and since I'm all for not telling anyone, not because I'm ashamed but for fear of the news reaching the wrong ears, I completely welcomed the idea. Until of course, I was asked to take a vacation and I'm about to spend two weeks with my best friend, at her apartment in Seattle, with her brother just a two buildings down. _Damn._ Turns out, this vacation has some disadvantages.

"How are you getting to Seattle tomorrow? Want me to drive both of you?" Ray says, once again, breaking the silence and my misery, I mean, reverie.

"No worries, Dad, Kate will swing by tomorrow after a field work in Portland."

"Okay…" Ray says, noncommittally, which tells me he's not too happy to part with the little one just yet.

"We'll come back after a few months or you can always visit, I'm sure Ted will love hanging out with his _grampapa_," I tell him, using his fondness to the little one as a tool to change the subject. It works, Ray smiles genially, his eyes crinkling.

**xxxxxxxxxxx**

"Hey, Kate, it's good to see you," I say, giving her an _I-missed-you-too_ hug, when she arrives to pick us up.

"Steele! You look good! Love the highlights," Kate says, responding my hug with her own special embrace. I smile, thankful that she forgiven me after keeping my secret from her. Aside from my parents, I know I've hurt Kate the most by my decision. When the hospital called her, Kate took the first available flight to New York. Showing up with a mixture stunned disbelief, worry, hurt, furry and disappointment that I almost forgot that I was in labor. And even with all those feelings, even though I hurt her for not telling, she stayed with me throughout the ordeal and was present when I delivered Ted.

"Aunt Katie!" My baby boy thunders, cannoning from the kitchen and straight into Aunt Katie's arms.

"Teddy Bear! Hi, Ray! How's it going?" Kate says affectionately.

"Good to see you, Kate, how are things?" Ray responds.

"Good, thanks," Kate tells Ray, before she turns her full attention to my baby boy. "How's my baby boy? You ready to go?" she adds affectionately, as she settles him from her hip. My baby boy just smiles toothily and nods.

"You are, are you? I love your backpack," she winks and my baby boy smiles, holding the backpack.

"Thomas the twain," Ted says, shyly, referring to the Thomas the train backpack that grampapa Ray, got for him very recently.

"Very cool! You like trains?" Kate asks to my baby boy.

"Yes!" My baby boy exclaims, happily.

"Kate, you want something to drink first, before we leave?" I ask, interrupting their conversation.

"No thanks, I'm good. If we go now, there's a good chance that we'll avoid traffic."

"Okay, I'll get the bags." I say, turning to give my dad a hug, say our _see you later and let me know when you'll visit,_ before collecting our things and putting then at the back of the SUV.

"Baby boy, wanna say good bye to Grandpa Ray?" Kate tells Ted, who is resting on her shoulder.

"'Papa Ray," My baby says, exuberantly, reaching out to his grandpa. I think I might've heard Rays heart break a little at the sight of his grandson leaving.

**xxxxxxxxxxx**

"Don't be surprised to see Ethan, I borrowed his SUV for this occasion and I told him he can pick it up later today," Kate says, when we pull into her garage, after a two hour drive from Montesano. The drive to Seattle was fast and uneventful. Kate and I talked and discussed our plans for our stay, while my baby boy watch his favorite cartoon.

"Oh," I say, a little dumbfounded. "So you didn't replace your car?"

"I did replaced my CLK with an E class. My car isn't not suitable for my teddy bear and your things, so I borrowed Ethan's SUV," she smiles haughtily. "Don't worry about him, Ana, it'll all be alright," she adds

"Did you tell him?"

"Nope. I told you, that's not my job."

"Oh," I say, a little apprehensive. Half sure, half unsure how Ethan will react when he sees my baby boy, who is still peacefully sleeping from his car seat at the moment, the Dr. Seuss movie completely forgotten.

"Don't worry, Steele, it'll all be alright." Kate says as we get off the car. "I mean, sure, he'll be surprised, maybe hurt and all. He will have questions and you will need to explain things. Having said that, he will understand, like I did, and eventually come around," she adds as we divide our bags, get the sleeping toddler, from his car seat and into my arms, the finally, we make our way up to her apartment.

My friendship with Ethan stems from my friendship with Kate and the entire Kavanagh family. They all treat me as Kate's twin, like I am their own family. When I made the choice to keep Ted away from as many people including family and friends, I knew that this feat will hurt most of them, the moment they find out. Ethan, I'm sure won't be any different, I'm sure he will go through the same thing that emotional process when my parents, Jose and Kate, found out and I will have to go through the same thing, apologize for hurting his feelings, explain my situation and eventually _shut down_ when they finally ask the million-dollar question. I am, however, banking on the fact that Ethan is a psychiatrist and that as a psychiatrist, I hope that somehow, he will understand.

"I'm not that worried," I finally say. Of course I'm worried. My biggest worry is that… the mere thought makes me want to throw up. _Crap._

"No you're not. You're just worried he'll tell his fiancé," Kate says, deadpan, when we finally reach her apartment. Damn her for reading me like a book. But before I even dwell on her words, and as she welcomes me and my still sleeping son, into her apartment, we hear noise coming from her living room.

"That'll be Ethan," Kate mutters. I think she's more nervous than I am. "Cross your fingers and pray that his fiancé isn't with him, she rarely visit with him. Pray that today is not one of them."

"Oh," is all I can say, my heart beating double time and I'm slightly paralyzed from where I'm standing. _Crap_.

"Yeah, a cute little Teddy bear is about to hit the fan."

"What fan, Aunt Katie?" The voice of my baby boy startles both of us. I'm not sure if our muttering or the voice coming from the living room, woke him from his nap.

"Oh it's nothing, Teddy Bear," we both say.

"Let's get you inside, Mommy's gonna introduce you to Uncle Ethan," Kate coos to my baby, as she takes him from my arms, ruffle his unruly bronze, not copper hair, thank goodness, kiss his chubby cheeks before setting him down, so he can walk. When they're ready, hand in hand, they both turn to me, my baby boy smiling politely while his Aunt Katie finally say, "Let's go, Steele."

Oh my, here we go.


	4. Bellevue

**Bellevue**

"We want intimate. _Stylish, yet intimate_ – that's going to be the theme for our wedding. We'd like to get married within the year and we want only our families and closest friends with us," Mia, My sister announces, when our parents ask her and her fiancé, Ethan Kavanagh, if they've decided on anything for their wedding. I don't know which one is worst, listening to my sister replay how her fiancé proposed to her during their romantic weekend getaway in Napa weeks ago every chance she gets, or the never ending discussion about possible wedding themes and shit with my mother, or my mother discussing the details of the many parties they'll throw to celebrate the upcoming nuptials. The first of the many parties is the _happy couples'_ engagement party that my parents and the Kavanaghs are throwing in a week at the Kavanagh estate in Redmond, WA, since it's been decided that sunset at Bellevue will be the perfect place for the actual nuptials.

"Do we have the rough number of attendees?" my mother queries. Knowing my sister, two hundred fifty is considered intimate.

"For the wedding? We don't know yet. But since we both don't have a lot of friends and we do have a budget, I say, less than a hundred and definitely no more than a hundred and fifty for the wedding and no more than fifty for the engagement dinner, right Hun?" Mia says, turning to her fiancé for confirmation.

"Uhm… yes, that's the plan," Ethan says, softly.

"Now, like want we already discussed, you two don't need to worry about the engagement party. The parents will take care of it for you," my mom tells them, fondly. As the only princess and the youngest of the Grey siblings, Mia is showered with anything a girl could ever hope for and more. She did everything _girly_. As a child, she did ballet and went through the whole the princess shit. In high school, she joggled her schedule between cello lessons, cheer-leading, boys, shopping, and fashion. Our parents even put her on all that 'debutante' shit. Now, after graduating cookery in Paris and opening her restaurant and event planning business, Mia, is still all about fashion, but this time, she also settled into the food and events business, travelling and off course, her now fiancé. The only man who lasted, not to mention understood, my sisters' overbearingly energetic spirit. Ethan Kavanagh, who's been silent throughout dinner and is currently alternating between quietly listening, pondering while toying with his food, and eyeing me intently for unknown reasons, deserves a fucking award for putting up and taming my sister for two years and for his bravery to spend his life taming the wild beast that is my little sister.

"Yes, we know and we are very grateful," Mia says sweetly.

"So, tell me, who did you invite so far? I need the official headcount for next week," My mother asks.

"Just a few of my friends, except for Lily. She told me she'll be in Ireland for a month or so. Jada, Mariah, Claire and three of my colleagues, all confirmed attendance for the engagement party," Mia answers swiftly, then ever so slightly, she nudges her fiancé to answer. I didn't want to hear any of it, it doesn't interest me. This is the part where I wish I am in my playroom, beating the shit out of a submissive, rather than listening to this shit, but I know better than to not attend or walk away from dinner. I hate disappointing my mother. Christ, that reminds me, I need a new submissive. The last one who Elena recommended was a complete shit. Mica, didn't fucking last. Apparently, I was too 'harsh' to her and that her previous dominant wanted her back, so she voided the contract, packed her bags and took the first flight to Boston. _Christ!_ Why fucking sign up to this shit if you think canning is too 'harsh?'

"Same here. Closest friends, my best man and his girlfriend, a few close friends from graduate school, oh, and maybe a very close friend of mine and my sister," Ethan finishes, a little uncomfortably, while my brother, Elliot, who is studiously ignoring the wedding conversation, as he is too busy scarfing down the crème Brule, looks up upon hearing Ethan's the last word.

Elliot and Katherine Kavanagh, had a very tumultuous relationship. They were together for a long time. Well, by Elliot's standards, a while, you get the picture. Elliot considered Katherine to be the only woman he'll ever consider settling down with, until of course, they started fighting and then Elliot made a colossal mistake he calls_ the ultimate fuck-up, _by having a drunken sleepover with Gia Matteo at his apartment, and Katherine caught him the next day, red handed. Safe to say that things ended with a bang and Elliot almost lost his balls after that. That was years ago, yet even to this day, I can tell that Elliot isn't over how things ended between them.

"Elliot, Kate is Ethan's sister, of course shell be there," Mia tells him.

"Hey! Of course, Kate and I are civil. Sure, things ended pretty badly but, you know, it's been a while. We both moved on," Elliot prattles. To say that Elliot was sorry he spent a drunken night with a predator was a bit of an understatement. He begged and begged Katherine to forgive him, to take him back, but nothing worked.

"Good," Mia says in ill-disguised skepticism, but let's the issue go for another as she turns her attention back to Ethan and ask, "Hun, I don't think you ever mentioned this friend of yours and Kate?"

"Well, she hasn't confirmed the invitation."

"Oh, okay. Well, who is it then?"

"It's Ana. Ana Steele, who else? She's visiting from New York for a couple of weeks. She err… arrived last night," Ethan finally says, a little uncomfortably, as he looks at me, as to say that he isn't comfortable with the idea of telling this bit of information about _her_. The only woman I ever publicly dated. The only submissive I ever given more, partially, until off course, I fucked it all up. _My Anastasia_. The one who got away or went away, or whatever. And I let her.

"Ana? She's in town? Oh my god! Why didn't you tell me? It's been a while, how is she?" Mia exclaims exuberantly, in an array of questions and exclamations. All I can think about is that, _she's back_. Ana, my Anastasia is _back._

Ethan's smile doesn't reach his eyes when responds to each of the questions, "Kate didn't tell me when th– err, I mean, she was gonna arrive, until she and Kate arrived last night. I think she went to visit her dad in Montesano first, then Kate picked her up. She looks… well, happy with a little bit of that New Yorker thing, I think."

All I could think about is that she's back. And she's in town.

"If she's still here next week, then you have to tell her to join us for next week," I hear my sister say, almost beg. Mia has always been fond of Anastasia. Actually, everyone in the family is fond of Anastasia. They love her simplicity, her kind heart and how she 'makes me really happy,' which was true. She really did made me happy. She has always been a breath of fresh air with her wit, that smart mouth and her innocence, she never failed to amaze me. Until the day she decided to that she wanted more of what's already been a _more_ and when she couldn't get her more, she left.

I had the best of both worlds the moment Ana agreed to be mine, at least, by contract. She agreed to be my submissive on the condition that she gets her _more_. By more meaning, I will try to give her the relationship she wanted, of which I wholeheartedly agreed to. So we signed a contract where she is to become my submissive and part time girlfriend. To the eyes of my family and those around us, she is my girlfriend and I get to fulfill the duties of a boyfriend. But between the two of us and once back to my penthouse, my girlfriend, must in turn, perform the duties of a submissive. My submissive. At least inside my playroom.

The arrangement made me more than happy, ecstatic even, until she starts acting really, _odd_. All of a sudden, she starts bringing the idea of removing the contractual side of the agreement and replacing it with a purely _more _type of relationship. I mean, I've given her_ more_. She is my _more_ in the eyes of everyone who could see us, not just in the eyes my family, her parents and her friends. _She was my more_. I completed my part of the deal, truthfully and with the best of my abilities. But suddenly, she fucking wants more. _More._ How can you add more when you've already given more? Oh yes! Of course, she wants a full-time vanilla relationship, without all the fucking fillings. Without the kinky shit. But I couldn't. And it's not just the kinky shit. I just couldn't, period. I'm too fucked up for that hearts and flowers kind of relationship. Christ! The mere thought of someone touching me makes me shudder, let alone doing it in real time. Like on a twenty-four-seven basis.

The shocking part is that she was willing to walk away, like the others, when they've given up hope for the chance of getting their more. How can one utter the words, _I love you, _then walk away and say goodbye at the same time? How can one say I love you and then leave you, all on one go? What kind of love it that? She just gave up, walked away and I fucking let her. That woman is so infuriating! No one has ever got into my nerves as much as she did. But for some reason, I can't stay mad at her. In fact, I still think of her. No, I never kept tabs on her (even though I badly want to) because I gave her my word, but still, sometimes I wonder… Yes, I am way too fond of her. She set a very tall bar to the next submissive and no one, I mean no one, has ever fared against her. I'll even go as far as to say that nothing was ever the same after her. She's a breath of fresh air. I miss her. I miss her wit and her smart mouth. I miss what we had.

We were perfect, but she threw it all away just because she wanted her more, and I was not willing to be the person she wanted me to be. The sad part is that I let her leave, when clearly she didn't like the idea of leaving any more than I did. Her eyes are telling me to convince her to stay even though her words are telling me otherwise. How I didn't ask her to stay or convince her to give me time is beyond me. But the past is the past, I can't dwell on the fucking scenarios and what-if's or it'll drive me crazy. All I know is that, right now, she is back in town.

"Christian, you don't mind if Ana attends the party next week, do you?" again I hear a voice say. I look up to find everyone, both my parents, brother, sister and her fiancé look at me expectantly. Of course they'll ask me if it's okay to invite my only known ex-girlfriend, the only girl I dated and the only girl I was willing to give more, provided she be a part-time submissive, to a party that is not mine to begin with. To everyone's knowledge and assumption, I fucked up and _she _left me. I didn't bother correcting them because technically it is true. Being the fucked-up bastard that I am, I, as usual fucked up by not giving her what she really wanted, a normal relationship. The hearts and flowers kind of shit. So she went. Took the hills and left. Left me.

"Why are you asking me? It's not my party," I reply, vaguely aware that I sound like a bored-as-hell and sullen teenager.

"Because she's your ex-girlfriend and no one wants an awkward party?" Mia replies, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world, while Elliot simply laughs. _Christ!_

"Look, I don't mid. It was a mutual decision to end things between us. We promised to be… civil and friendly. In fact, it'll be nice to see Ana, it's been a while. So to answer your question, I'm all for you inviting her," I say, coolly. Acutely aware that my family isn't sure whether or not to buy my bullshit. Of course it'll be awkward running into your ex, especially when she was the one who left. But I miss her and I'm… curious.

"Good to know. Now all my fiancé has to do is get her confirmation," Mia says, delighted by my response, winking at Ethan, who simply smiles.

"So how is Ana? Tell us about her?" my mother asks Ethan.

"She's good. We haven't really catch-up coz Kate says I have to wait for my turn so… you know," Ethan responds with a chuckle. His eyes go towards my direction for infinitesimally, again, with some unknown emotion that I can't put a finger on. Then he adds, "But I do know that she's happily working as an editor for a lifestyle company in New York."

"I gotta ask, is she dating someone? I'm sure Christian here, is dying to find out," Elliot suddenly asks, mirth in his eyes.

For a second, I stop breathing. Though I would die first before admitting it, it's true. I am curious as to whether Ana really is with someone. Has she moved on? More importantly, has she found her _more?_ Is she happy? Does that fucker, whoever he is, make her happy? The thought of someone touching her, touching what's mine – _was mine_, even though I know what I shouldn't and couldn't care anymore, and that I voided the right to call her mine ages ago, still, for some reason, fucking infuriates me. And if it's really true, if Ana really did move on and has found her _more_ with some fucker in New York. The mere thought is somehow, unsettling.


	5. Occurrence

**Occurrence**

"Sweet dreams, baby boy," I whisper, as my baby boy finally sleeps, after a long fun-filled day of activities. My friends have been so generous for taking me and most especially Teddy to an adventure, on a daily basis, the moment we arrived. Jose and his girlfriend, Laura, took us to the zoo, where my baby boy got to meet a parrot, he named Mr. Birdie. They also took us to the woodland park, where Ted forgot about his naptime and played all day long. Aunt Katie gave us more of a laid back tour. We strolled at the marina and looked at the birds and the boats, drank hot cocoa and munch on waffles at a café in the Pike Place, spent the day at the aquarium and then watched a movie about dragons.

Even Uncle Ethan found time for us. A few days after meeting Ted for the very first time, and walking out on me and his sister, upset that I concealed not only a secret, but a baby. A baby who looked like someone we all know. More on that later, anyway, Ethan showed up early in the morning and invited the little one for an adventure, to which the little one wholeheartedly said yes. What an adventure it was, Uncle Ethan took him to the children's museum, the museum of flight (that my baby boy loves so much), ending the day with a short but sweet boat ride at the marina. And the adventure doesn't end there, Uncle Ethan also promised to take him to the waterfront, this time to play at the fair and to ride the Ferris wheel before we go back to New York.

Now for a different adventure, or dare I say, interrogation. Yes, Ethan showed up today and gave my baby boy the best treat any kid could ever hope for, but I can tell that he still isn't over what I've done – not to him, but to his fiancé, Mia – he said, before walking out on me and Kate, the night he first met Teddy. He wouldn't talk to me or Kate, for a few days until he simply showed up with his adventure for my baby boy and talk after with mommy. So now that the adventure part is over, and my buffer is fast asleep, I am left to face the music. Ethan and the rest of the gang, Jose and Kate, are waiting at Kate's round dining room table, with dinner and a million questions, none of which I am willing to answer.

"He is finally asleep," I announce as I join them for what's left of the dinner Kate ordered. "Thanks to you, he could barely contain his excitement for the next adventure," I tell Ethan, who simply smiles.

"I look forward to the next one," Ethan says.

"So…." Kate hedges, pouring wine to everyone's glasses as she asks, "How are we going to do this?"

"I knew it," I mutter and swallow my frustration, content to my fate and my friends' upcoming grilling. Kate, my best friend isn't known for sugar coating things. She is known to attack things with much ferocity and three years of not getting her answers from me, joined by two of my other friends, who also want answers from a cornered me, is a lethal combination.

"Don't use that tone on use, Steele! Remember, you kept your pregnancy and a freaking baby, to everyone and didn't plan on telling until you got busted and on Ethan's case, three years later," Kate says, in her best _hush-there's-a-Teddy-bear-sleeping_ voice.

"You can't expect us to simple embrace Teddy bear – which we do, by the way, and simply forget about things, Ana. We, as your friends, are, first of all, concerned and then of course we have questions, a lot of questions that you never really answered," Jose says, reasonably.

"If I did the same thing, father a baby with an ex, and kept it from everyone. Then, one day, I show up and tell you. How will you feel, Ana?" Ethan asks, his eyes on me. Damn reverse psychology.

"I will be surprised, confused and understanding. Yes, I will understand and respect your privacy or whatever reasons you may have for keeping it," I say, truthfully. It is true, if the situation was reversed, I will feel all of those, I tell myself.

"But…?" Ethan asks, after a moment. Damn this psychological shrink.

"I'll have questions and yes, I'll be a little offended that you didn't trust me enough to tell me. But since I respect your privacy, I wouldn't ask them until you are ready to tell them," I admit.

"Unfortunately, we're not like you, so spill. Steele, I waited three years for this!" Kate pleads, impatience radiating from her still hushed voice.

"What were you thinking, Ana? Okay, we could all agree that you made your choice, we get it. But what if something unexpected happened to you? You're alone in New York and you didn't tell anyone," Ethan starts.

"Tell me about it, I found out when she was already in labor," Kate mutters. We both cringe at the memory. Sixteen hours of labor, a surprised and hurt Kate showing up, the talk after… yeah, cringe worthy.

"What?!" Ethan asks, incredulously. "Okay, that's it! Fess up, now, Steele. What the hell were you thinking?"

"First of all, my parents knew, okay? The hospital just couldn't reach them. Second of all, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to hurt anyone. I made a mistake, though a happy one, since I got my Ted, but I didn't want the drama. I left and took the job in New York because I felt like it's the right thing to do. I don't know who the father is and even if I did, he wouldn't accept him… I'm sure of it."

"That bullshit and you know it!" All three of them exclaim, almost at the same time, in various voices of frustrated disbelief.

"If you guys don't want to believe me, I get it. Just… please, respect my decision," I finally say after a moment.

"I want to believe you, Ana, but look at him. Look at Teddy and tell us that you had a drunken night with a stranger and got knocked up after," Kate says, tearing up now.

Silence. At least on my part. I refuse to say it out loud. I've gone three years being silent about this thing. About Teddy's dad. Doing so would raise more questions, than answers.

"Ana, he has the right to know. Whatever your reasons behind this, don't take away his chance to make a choice," Ethan says after an awkward silence. "You do realize that you are not only taking Ted away from his father but also his family. Think about it, you took Ted away from Grace and Carrick, from Elliot and Mia," he adds when I still don't respond.

"Guys, how many time do I have to tell you that, Chri–"

"Deny all you want, Ana, we know. All of us, Ray and Carla included, we all know. Honestly, I don't know why you even bother denying it," Kate cuts me off, in her usual haughty _I-so-got-you_ voice.

"No," I say, unconvincingly. It really is time for me to shut up. This isn't helping.

"We've been through this, Ana. Just admit it, we'll let it go," Jose says, cringing as Kate smacks him in the arm.

"What do you mean, _let it go?_" Kate almost screeches.

"This is why I refuse to tell you guys or anyone for that matter!" I say, giving up and letting it all out. "This... the drama, is the reason why I left and didn't bother telling anyone. I was avoiding it, but clearly it loves to follow me around like lint. Don't you see it? I'm okay with the father not knowing about my pregnancy. Because to me, it doesn't matter who Ted's father really is. What matters most, is that Ted is happy and healthy. He is here, that's what's important. He has a loving mom, grandparents who couldn't resist him and you guys. Sure, I could use some help but I _made _this choice and I am living through the consequences. My choice, can you just… please, respect that? I just want to concentrate on raising my son."

"Now I wonder what shit he did to make you do this," Kate wonders after my tirade. He scared me into telling him, that's what he did. But I won't tell them that. "Have you ever considered telling him?"

Silence, again for me. How could I answer that without revealing anything? Have I considered telling him? Yes, of course, I'm not an idiot, but his reaction when he found out that I almost forgot to take my pill on time, the rant and the accusatory words after, all kept me from telling him. How can I tell my best friend that without them looking at Ted's dad in a bad light? Without making him look like he's a bad person, when he really isn't.

"What if he finds out?" Ethan asks, after I don't answer Kate's question.

Again, I don't answer. That'll be more drama for me, _when_ he finds out. When I left, I banked on his promise that he will stop all communications and will cease any _stalkery_. He told me that my voiding the contract, _our contract_, is enough reason for him to stop any form of communications. So far, it's been three years of utter silence and I've been very careful not to rock the boat. Sure, I know that things don't last forever. I know that this _silence_ won't last, things happen, unexpected _shit _every now and then (Jose finding out, is one of them), so I've been preparing what I'll say, should the fateful day happens. I honestly expected him to show up, unexpectedly, throughout my pregnancy, half thinking that he broke his promise and had me followed or something. I'm half happy and half sad that he didn't. Again, I made my choice and I'm fine with the consequences, as long as I have my Teddy.

"As a guy, I say he still has the right to know. Whatever shit he did to deserve this, however shitty his reaction might've been, he still has the right to know," Jose says, thoughtfully, breaking me out of my reverie and the awkward silence between the four of us.

"The time will come when Teddy will start asking, you know," Ethan says, thoughtfully.

"I know. I'm not ready for that just yet," I say, repeating the words I said to my dad.

"Okay, I respect your decision, Ana. I think we can all agree that we don't like your decision, but we love you and that little one, so we'll respect your choice," Ethan finally says.

"We'll protect you, should the Teddy Bear news hit the fan," Kate concedes, rolling her eyes. She obviously isn't happy that she didn't get her answers, yet again.

"That's all I ask," I respond. Grateful that I won this battle, at least today.

"I do have a few favors to ask," Ethan asks. I nod, already expecting what he's going to say.

"First, I'd like you to attend the engagement party this Saturday," Ethan begins to say, the change of topic momentarily baffles me. _Okay, I guess?_

"I'd be happy to," I automatically respond. Okay, where's he going with this? And what am I going to wear?

"And, I'd like Ted to serve as ring bearer for our wedding."

_Oh… crap._


	6. Party

**Party**

"Let's hit this," Elliot smirks, when we finally arrive at the Kavanagh Estate. A hilltop property at one of Washington's exclusive neighborhoods. The property is impressive. A contemporary style home surrounded by nothing but trees and nature. About half a dozen cars are already parked at the circular driveway when we arrive. There is no valet, there's just security waving to tell us to park at the designated space.

"We're late," I mutter, as I park my R8 on the next available space close to the house.

"Dude, it's a party. We're not late, we have three minutes to get inside," Elliot says, rolling his eyes as he lets himself out of the car and I follow.

"If you didn't take your time playing dress up, we would be here a little earlier," I retort dryly. Since my weekends are now pretty much empty, unless I work or if I had a new submissive, which I still don't at the moment, and since I don't have friends to hang out with, I'm pretty much stuck spending any free time I have with my brother. We went sailing earlier in the day, then he decided to take his time, like a girl, playing dress up, until he found the _suitable outfit_ to wear for the occasion, completely forgetting the horrible traffic on the way.

"At least you won't look like an idiot, waiting and then gawking at Ana, when you finally see her," Elliot smirks and shoves my arm playfully.

"Fuck you, Elliot," Is my reply. Elliot is still laughing when we finally enter the tent, the Kavanagh's have set up for the special occasion. It's smaller and more intimate than what my parents have. I would know, Grace knows how to throw a soiree. The engagement party has barely started, we're in a room full of familiar faces. Everyone's attention is on the future bride, my sister, Mia, and her groom, Ethan, who are currently thanking everyone for joining the celebration. I scan the room to look for the one person that I am most eager to see, above anyone else.

"You see her, yet?" Elliot teases, just as my sister and her fiancé finish their short speech and announce that dinner will be served buffet style and the small crowed make their way towards the buffet area, manned by servers.

"Fuck off, Elliot," I mutter, just as I spot my mother and Mrs. Kavanagh chatting with someone who's face I don't see. Long silky brown hair, with hints of honey blonde streaks. Slender figure accentuated by the navy blue cocktail dress and cream stilettos that also emphasize her toned legs. Everything, aside from the changes in her hair screams _her. _The one that got away. _Damn. _My feet automatically move across the room to reach her. To get a closer look. I could say '_hi,' _right? Be _friendly_. I don't even bother looking at the smug reaction of my brother. Right now, all I care about is seeing her face for the first time since… well since the last time. The day she said goodbye…

"Are you sure about this?" I ask her, once again. Please say no.

"Yes," she says, though her expression says otherwise.

"Once this is done, it's done, Ana. Over. You won't see me or talk to me again, ever," I try again, hoping that these carefully chosen words make her change her mind. Please stay, my sweet Ana.

"That… that's what I want," she says, barely even a whisper.

"Fine. Contract is voided. It's over," I say, bitterly. Why does this fucking feel so wrong? "I will have Taylor arrange transportation for your… things," I say, surly. Goodbye, sweet Anastasia.

"No, Christian, everything in my room and some of the items on your rooms… those are all yours, I don't need them," she tries to say but I didn't let her finish. Christ! She is one infuriating woman!

"Don't be ridiculous, Ana. You signed the contract, the contract says you'll take anything I give you," I say forcefully.

"I don't want to take anything that remind me of you," she says, a single tear rolling down her eye. Fuck! That hurts. Why does it hurt? Focus, Grey, I scold myself. I won't let her walk away with nothing, so I try a different tact.

"You're wounding me, Ana, please take them. Do whatever you want to do with those things, just take them, please," I beg her. I want her, but I can't give her want she wants. I'm no good for her, but I want her to think of me even though it's over. Christ! I'm a fucked up son of a bitch.

"Okay, I'll take them, but on one condition."

"What is it?"

"You said it's over. I won't see or talk to you anymore after this," she repeats my words. Okay, where the fuck is this going?

"Yes, unless, you've changed your mind, of course," I say, hopeful that she did change her mind.

"I love you, but I can't give you what you want and you can't give me what I want, Christian. So unless you've changed your mind, then my answer is still a no, Christian. I'm sorry," she says, smiling weakly.

"I'll miss that smart mouth of yours, Ms. Steele," I say, mirroring her smile. Though mine is more bitter than weak. It's true though, I will fucking miss her.

"Me too, Christian, I will miss you," she responds, another tear managing to escape from her eye. That's it, my wall begin crumble.

"Do you have to do this? Stay with me, please?" I try again.

"I don't want to re-hash, Christian, we can't provide each other's needs. It won't work, not anymore."

"Fine. What is it then, that condition?" I ask bitterly.

"Promise me that you will not keep tabs on me. No more security, background checks, the whole nine yards. Promise, no– give me your word, Christian, that you will stop the _stalkery_ and I will keep everything that you gave to me."

"Christian, hello," I blink to hear Anastasia's startled, yet pleasant voice, take me from the memory of our last conversation and back into the now. Another blink and I see her shy but smiling face. _That face_. Thos beautiful blue eyes, now regarding me with their usual intensity. God, I forgot the effect they have on me. Don't even get me started with the lips. _Christ!_

"Are you okay?" she asks, smiling tentatively.

"Yeah, it's good to see you, Ms. Steele," I respond, finally finding my voice while my body, for the second time automatically reach up to give her a kiss in the cheek. She blushes, a delicate shade of pink, the blush made me smile. Her answering smile made me almost forget that we are in a room full of people and that we are no longer together, which fucking suck.

"Always so formal," I hear my mother say. Yeah, I almost forgot, she's talking with my mother and Mrs. Kavanagh.

"I know right? Why so formal, Mr. Grey?" she smiles, that shy smile. The smile that could turn even the grumpiest fuckers to keel.

"Old habits," I shrug.

"Well I'm sure you two have some catching up to do, we'll go join the others," my mother announces happily, giving Anastasia a kiss in the cheek, before touching my cheek and then leading an intrigued Mrs. Kavanagh somewhere, giving me some privacy with her. _My Anastasia_.

"Err… okay, what was that?"

"I think my mother is giving us some privacy," I say as we both watch my mother and Mrs. Kavanagh mingle to the crowd until they make their way to my sister and her fiancé.

"Oh, okay, I guess?" she giggles. One of the most beautiful music, at least to me, is her giggle. It is also one of the things that I miss the most, aside from the giggler herself. Quit acting like a pussy, Grey. _Focus. _I tell myself.

"You look incredible by the way. New York suits you," I say, truthfully. I would say mouthwatering, but that would be too much.

"Thanks. You too, Christian, you look great, as always," She blushes, returning my compliment with another compliment. Of course, but beauty is only skin deep.

"Why thank you, Ms. Steele. So… how are things?" I ask, my curiosity peaking. Yes, I'm dying to know how she's doing.

"Great," is her simple answer, I roll my eyes.

"Come on, Anastasia, give me details," I mutter dryly, much to her amusement.

"I'm glad you seem to be keeping your promise," she says, looking relieved.

"Of course I did, I'm a man of my word," I say, feigning offense. I've been tempted a couple of times since hearing the news of her moving to New York, but I thought better of it and frankly, I don't know what I'll do if I find out that she moved on or something, so I fought the overwhelming urge to check on her.

"Glad to hear it," she says, for some reason, my assurance seem to make her feel more relieved. She takes a deep breath, then continues, "Well, I'm a Senior Editor at Morrison Group, a lifestyle and media company based in Manhattan. I've been living in New York for about three years now, uhm, what else? That's it, I'm afraid. Work and home, very boring," she finishes with a shaky laugh.

"How about you, Mr. Grey. How are things?" she asks. Of course she'll ask. What to say? Hmmm that I've changed submissive faster than my morning runs? That none of it is the same since she walked away? That I miss her? None of those seems appropriate so I resolve on saying the simplest words I can think of.

"The same, but with some improvements, I guess" I reply, because it's half true. I'm still CEO at Grey Enterprise, which is growing. I'm still living in Seattle, living in the same building and above all, I'm still a fucked-up son of a bitch who likes to… you get the picture. And it looks like she does to, for I'm rewarded with her eye rolling and yes, another smile. Half smile, this time.

"I have to ask, why New York?" I say, changing the subject.

"Well, Morrison Group was the only company interested to hire me, I simply jumped on the opportunity. It's been amazing. I mean, I know right? New York? It's nothing like Seattle, it's much more… urban, definitely not a quiet place to live. But, you know, it's not that bad once I got used to it and after a while, I started to love it."

"I'm glad to hear it," I say. "How long are you visiting?"

"I'm on week two of my three weeks. I visited my dad in Montesano the first week, then here until w- I mean, I leave next Saturday," she says, slightly flustered. I'm pretty sure she about to say _we_ rather than _I_. hmm.

"Are you seeing someone?" I ask, curiosity getting the best of me. Control yourself, Grey.

"Me? Oh no," she answers with giggle. "New York is not the best place to date. Too many douchebags, if you ask me," she snorts.

"So you're not with someone?" I clarify. _Christ!_ Why do I feel so relieve.

_"Ana!"_

We both turn to see Kate marching towards us. "Oh, Hi, Christian," she says dryly, before she takes Anastasia's hand and says, "Picture time with the ladies and then can we please eat? I'm starving."

"Uhm, okay," Anastasia replies, tentatively. "I'll see you around, Christian,"

"Rain check," I tell her. Irritated that her friend just had to butt in and steal the fucking show.

Dinner is uneventful. I am seated beside my brother, who is drinking too much liquid courage, hoping muster enough confidence to go and talk, and hopefully win back someone who isn't willing to come back to him. I have to listen to my parent's talk excitedly at their daughter's happiness. I also have to put up with my sister's friends, all of them mooning over me as if they're still teenagers. Normally I would confirm attendance just so my mom will know that I did what I was asked, then leave the first chance I get. But here I am, sitting on my ass, waiting for the perfect time to resume my little chat with the alluring Ms. Steele, and trying my very best not to stare at her the whole time. Our eyes have locked a couple of times now, I don't want to look like I am salivating to get a chance to talk to her, or be with her, or fuck her like there's no tomorrow, or all of the above, in no particular order. _Fuck!_

The perfect time finally comes when my brother, who I hope is not too drunk, finally sum up the courage to talk approach his ex (who's been studiously ignoring him). Ana is left chatting with my sister, Mia and Ethan. By some miracle, she looks at her phone and eventually excuses herself. _Yes!_ I feel like a fucking stalker, although, who am I kidding? I kind of am one, I snort to myself as I follow her outside the tent and into what looks like the garden/patio area. Her back against me and she listens to whoever's on the other line.

"I see… no worries, give him a good night kiss for me… Thanks Paula, you're the best… yeah, see you… good night," she says. Kiss? Who? Perhaps she's with someone. _Shit!_

"Oh my god! Christian… you startled me," she says, breaking me out of my thoughts.

"I'm sorry, didn't mean to," I reply automatically. "Who were you talking to?" I ask.

"OH! You heard?" she asks, surprised and a little worried. Hmmm…

"Not really, just some part" I lie coolly.

"That was uh, Paula, a friend of mine from New York. She called to ask if I'm available next weekend for a house party," she says. Why do I feel like she's telling me a lie? Right, she's returning to New York next weekend, that's why.

"I heard about a kiss good night," I state dryly. Yes, she's no longer mine, but I still want to know.

"Oh!" she laughs shakily, "She has a son. Adorable little one," she adds fondly.

"I see," I say, noncommittally. "So, about that rain check…"

"About that rain check, where were we?" she says.

"I believe I was confirming if you're currently seeing someone," I clarify.

"Uh… no," she responds swiftly. Okay? No… what?

"Care to elaborate?" I prod.

"I'm not seeing anyone, not at the moment," she finally say, before rolling her eyes at me. Her answer made me smile.

"New Yorker's are too much of douche for your liking, Ms. Steele?" I ask, playfully. Yeah, I can be playful if I want to.

"Something like that," she smiles. "But enough about me, what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Oh come on, dating anyone?"

"Anastasia, you know I don't date," I say, incredulously. She and I know this. I don't date. I don't do the vanilla shit. I don't do hearts and flowers. Well, she maybe the exception.

"You dated me. Partially, that is," she replies shyly. Yes, partially, that I can do. _Shit!_

"You were always the exception to that rule, Ana. I never dated after that," I clarify. Yes, it has always been her. Just her. The girl who left.

"Thanks, I guess? I'm not sure if I should be flattered by that. Okay, any new, you know… subs?" she asks, conspiratorially. I laugh.

"None at the moment."

"I'm glad you find me funny, _Sir,_" she says, playfully. My cock twitches.

"Oh, Anastasia, what am I going to do with you?" I say, lowering my voice.

"Nothing, I believe," she replies, with a shrug. How can I reply with that? It's true, I can't do anything, for she isn't mine.

"I can take you out. Lunch or dinner, perhaps?" the words are out before I can even blink.

"Err…" She is all she can say. No doubt startled by my sudden invitation. She swallows and glances nervously at me, her blue eyes wide and round, like a deer caught in the headlights.

_"Ana!"_

We both turn to look at a slightly drunken Kate, followed by a couple, the guy I recognize as Jose Rodriguez, and his girlfriend, all walking towards us. What a fucking perfect time it is for them to fucking ruin the moment.

"Steele, we need to go," Kate says, when they finally reach us.

"Oh, okay. You okay, Kate? You sound… drunk," she replies.

"I had a couple of drinks, I'm okay – sort of. I just need to snuggle with my Teddy Bear. Come on, let's go!" Kate drunkenly replies. I notice both Ana and her other friend, Jose, cringe at her words.

"Okay, give me a moment. I'll catch up with you guys," Ana finally says, eyeing Jose meaningfully to take her drunken friend away.

"'Kay, hurry up. We have cutie little Teddy baby waiting," again Kate says, much to Ana's horror.

"Christian, I have to go," Ana tells me, apologetically.

"I can just drop you off, if you want," I offer. Don't fucking leave yet, I want an answer.

"I can't. I'm the designated driver. I'm sorry," she insist.

"Come on, Ana. Your baby teddy bear is waiting," a drunken Kate calls, almost yells. Again the look of utter horror on Ana, completely baffles me. What is this Teddy Bear? Who wants to fucking snuggle with a teddy bear?

"We gotta go. Listen, it was nice catching up with you, Christian," Ana says, hurriedly. Or maybe panicking.

"But what about my invitation?"

"Uhm… I'll call you. We really need to go," she insists, reaching up to kiss me in the cheek, muttering a meek goodbye and then she's off, dragging her drunken friend with her. Not even bothering to get my number. Perhaps she still has my number. I can't know for sure. Damn it, I don't even have her new number. Besides, this Teddy Bear, her friend kept prattling and unceasing her frightened reaction, has got my attention. What is she hiding? And who or what is this teddy bear? Why is Ana embarrassed or frightened when Kate mentions that thing? Christ! I don't even know if it's a thing or living thing! And who the fuck is her friend Paula? Why would she confirm invitation when she's still technically in Seattle next weekend? That's it, Ms. Steele has done it again, peaked my interest to the brink of insanity. Enough for me to do crazy _stalkery _things, as she likes to call them. I take my phone and dial a familiar number. Hell, had she simply said yes to my invitation, then maybe I would be this… curious, about what just fucking happened.

"Welch, I need a background report."


	7. Action

**Action**

**Anastasia Rose Steele**

Date of Birth: Sept. 10, 1989, Montesano, WA

Address: 1st avenue and E 15th street, New York, NY 10009

Mobile No.: 718-687-0046

Social Security No.: 987-65-4320

Banking Details: Wells Fargo Bank, Lexington Ave 10022. Acct. No.: 310367. $8,390.66 Balance.

Occupation: Undergraduate Student, WSU Vancouver College of Liberal Arts – English Major (Graduated May 2011)

GPA: 4.0

Prior Education: Montesano JR-SR High School

SAT Score: 2150

Employment: Sr. Editor, Publishing Division at Morrison Media Group, 4 Time Square, NY. (Current)

Father: Franklin A. Lambert. DOB Sept. 1, 1969, Deceased Sept. 11, 1989

Mother: Carla May Wilkins Adams. DOB: July 18, 1970

M Franklin A. Lambert, March 1, 1989, Widowed Sept. 11, 1989

M Raymond Steele, July 6, 1990, divorced July 12, 2006

M Stephen M. Morton, August 16, 2006, divorced January 31, 2007

M Robbin (Bob) Adams, April 6, 2009.

Offspring: Theodore Raymond Steele. DOB: February 12, 2013

Spouse: None Found

Political Affiliations: None Found

Religious Affiliations: None Found

Sexual Orientation: None Found

Known Relationships: Christian Grey (June 2011 – July 2012)

I pore over the executive summary for the hundredth time since I received it just a few hours ago, confused at what I'm seeing. At first glance, it looks ordinary, the usual mundane information, but upon closer inspection, you see all the difference. The difference is both shocking and revealing, at least to me. This is nothing compared to the first background report I have about her, that fact I'm pretty fucking sure. Sure, if I compare it line by line, I would spot the basic difference. Her address, her phone, banking information, work details and then you see it, the one major addition. _Offspring._One line that made all the fucking difference, which makes me wonder, wonder a lot of fucking things like, _what the fuck?_ And a flurry of other things and emotions that I cannot begin to comprehend.

Welch knows me well enough to add an additional background information. Not technically a background information, more like the child's birth record, which I've also pored over, as much as I pored over _her_ updated executive summary. And as I pore over the child's executive summary, all I could think about is that, it turns out, the Teddy Bear, Kate has been referring to is not a teddy bear, or an animal or what not. It's a person. A toddler. A child that she didn't mention, not only to me, but to everyone at the party. It's only thanks to Kate, who, at her drunken stupor mentioned the name, much to her horror, a name that only curious individuals would ever bother to wonder. This, incidentally answers something that had bothered me that night, her horror. Increasing horror while Kate babbled about the child. It does not however answer another though, _why? _

**Theodore Raymond Steele**

Date of Birth: February 12, 2013, Manhattan, New York

Certificate No.: 08564

Sex: Male

Borough: Manhattan

Mother/Parent's Name: Anastasia Rose Steele

Father/Parent's Name:

So there's the answer to my question. _Who is Teddy Bear?_ What I don't expect is the flurry of questions and alarm bells ringing, the moment I got my answer. For one, the child's father is not listed on the birth certificate. The obvious answer is that Anastasia chose to be a single mother, but _why?_ And the more important question is, _who _is the father? And why is he not listed on the damn certificate? Did he leave her? When did this fucking happen? So many question, so many why's, questions that I cannot fucking answers and I am left to find the answers to my these queries. So much for my fucking curiosity.

One option is to pore over the summary again, searching for clues or if I'm lucky, answers. First clue lies in the child's date of birth. Why, you ask? Anastasia left me, left Seattle on July of 2012, seven months before she gave birth to the child. So there's a clue, the problem is, the answer leads me to even more questions and my fucking alarm bells ringing. _What if, what if… what if… _it all makes sense, her demands for more, her willingness to walk away, her _leaving _and making me promise not to keep tabs on her all fucking adds up to a hypothesis. A fucking theory. A theory that still brings up a myriad of questions, scenarios and inexplicable emotions, at the mere thought… the mere thought makes me want to... I don't know. _Fuck!_ So here is am, sitting on my ass, not at the Kavanagh estate, but in my car, parked in front of an apartment building, three days after I ordering the updated background report, waiting and_, __with Taylor in the driver's seat, who is also waiting_ as I contemplate on how to attack this… _situation_.

This situation has given me a headache… that's putting it mildly. Frankly, I don't know what to say. At first I am unsure at what I'm looking at, but as my fucked-up brain starts running, it shifts into overdrive, until words suddenly fail me. I have no words, all I have is a flurry of emotions – confusion, disbelief and anger. Then, my emotions take me back to my questions, a _lot _of them. I need answers, answers that only one person could answer and that person is inside the building, at the second floor, in the confines of apartment number two, most likely having dinner at the moment, with her friends and… _that child, __a_ll of them unaware of what is about to happen. Frankly, even I don't know what's about to happen. All I know is that, I need answers. I need to confirm if my theory… the one that's been driving me to the brink of… I need to know? Insanity?

Part of me, the rational part, tells me that I can't know for sure. _I can't know for sure_. But the fucking date in the fucking birth certificate, along with all that's happened not only during the party but three years ago, before she left me, all don't make fucking sense. Unless she was with someone, while she was with me. I scoff at the thought which, I am ninety-nine point five fucking percent sure the she wasn't. She was with me all the fucking time and when she wasn't, she has fucking security tailing her. So that _scenario_, is off the fucking table. So I go back to the questions. I have questions that need answers. Answers that I won't get if I just sit on my ass, killing time. I need clarifications, to confirm if my fucked-up brain really is just fucked-up to come up with those crazy thoughts and scenarios, otherwise my already fucked-up mind will fucking explode.

Taylor follows me as I get out of the SUV. He is, without a doubt, sensing the tension emanating from me. We follow a tenant entering the secured building, noting that luck is on my side. _Good._The last thing I want to do is to ring the fucking buzzer and loose the element of surprise. We take the stairs, instead of the elevator. Sure, taking the elevator is faster, but, the stairs will provide time for me to calm. Yes, I'm deliberately taking my time but to calm myself, calm my nerves. Calm. I have to be calm enough to face the music waiting for me in second floor, apartment two. It's fucked up, I know, but I figured that marching in and demanding answers will only make the situation worst. Or I'll make a fool myself, if the theory is wrong, that is. But I've never been wrong, Grey Enterprise Holdings, is the living proof that my instinct never, _ever_ fail me. _Christ, I hope I'm wrong this time._

I take five deep breaths and count two sets of ten, once we reach the second floor and as I approach apartment number two. There are several people inside the unit, talking, laughing, no doubt enjoying dinner, oblivious at the fact that someone unexpected is about to, shall we say, join their little get together. So I knock three times and wait. Again taking deep calming breaths as I wait.

Katherine Kavanagh answers the door. Her eyes round as our eyes meet. She is, without a doubt, surprised and maybe a little scared to see me. Does she know? Is that why she drunkenly mentioned the name in front of me?

"Christian," she whispers. Somehow, her frozen reaction put some sort of answers to my questions. She is surprised, which obviously means she isn't expecting me. But why is she scared?

"Is Ana around?" I ask, cutting to the chase. Quit fucking around, I tell myself. I am not sure whether or not I should thank her for peaking my curiosity, leading up to this… unannounced visit.

She gulps and doesn't answer. Frozen and speechless for once. No boisterous response and no arrogant stance, just silence and perhaps, fear.

"Who is it, Aunt Katie?" a child comes barreling out of nowhere, hugs his Aunt around the legs. My attention is riveted from the frozen figure of Katherine Kavanagh and into the boy. This must be him. _The child_. He has coppery brown hair, round blue eyes and toothy smile, as he staring at her Aunt questioningly, before turning his attention to me. The child's round and extraordinarily beautiful blue eyes focus on me, then he smiles tentatively at me, as if he knows me or maybe he's just being very polite and then when his Aunt Katie doesn't answer, he focuses his attention from me and back to his aunt, tugging on her jeans in an attempt to wake her up from her stupor. It works. Kate blinks a few times, until finally, she looks at me and the child a few times before she composes herself.

"Err…" Kate tries to say, but my attention is riveted from her and the child, to the person standing behind them. _Anastasia._ She is frozen into place, seemingly rooted into position, just like her friend. With nothing but fear in her eyes, just like the night at the Kavanagh's. Everyone is silent. Everything is still. They are staring at me and I am starring at her, for god knows how long. All I know is that, looking at all their faces, their frozen reaction, and finally, the child. The child who looks like me. And just like that, my theory is… reality. The child and more importantly, Anastasia's reaction put an answer to some of my questions, only to be replaced by more questions and even more emotions that I couldn't fathom. And so I take a deep breath, will myself to focus, focus on her and say, through gritted teeth,

"I'd like to speak to Anastasia," I tell her friend, who is still in my way. Kate blinks a few times, takes the child protectively in her arms and moves to let me inside. I walk. Aware that the laughter and chatter has changed into nothing but awkward silence. I see several people from my periphery. My sister's fiancé, Jose and his companion, and a few others that I don't give a crap of knowing. I can easily look and see but they are not the reason why I'm here. I am here for the person standing frozen two, maybe three steps away from me. Blue eyes regarding me in both shock, guilt, utter horror and some emotion that I can't name.

"Christian, Wha– what are you doing here?" she finally asks. The proximity between us, awakes her from her frozen surprise.

"Why do you think?" I respond. A question with a question. I could easily tell her why I am here. I'm here to find out if the child on your updated report is mine, but that ship fucking sailed already. One look at the child. It's like I'm looking into a mirror of my past. The only fucking difference is that this child is… happy and carefree. I shudder at my own memory. _Focus, Grey! _I tell myself.

"You broke your promise," she says, barely even a whisper. Realization hitting her like a ton of bricks. Yes I broke my word, thanks to your drunken friend. Thanks to her, my curiosity got the better of me and boy did I find… a lot of things.

"I'm very glad I did, don't you agree?" I tell her. It's true. I'm fucking glad I did.

She doesn't respond. Silence. We stare at each other. More silence, from everyone in the room. But I couldn't care less about the other people. I only care about her… her silence speaks volumes. The answers to my questions are clearly written in her face that I can almost read them. Even her protective friend has no snarky words to tell me, she is just frozen by the door, which she thankfully closed in spite of her shock.

"I would like to speak to you," I finally say, turning to everyone in the room, her friends, and her father, who I now recognize, sitting on the corner with someone, still equally silent. "In private," I add, emphasizing the words. To everyone.

"Now is not the right time, Christian."

"Oh, I think it is. In fact, I think it's a long time coming don't you think? Three years… too late, Anastasia," I tell her, scathingly.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she responds, weakly.

"Don't. Lie. To. Me." I hear myself say, unable to get rid of the menace in my voice. Calm. There's a fucking child, you need to fucking calm, Grey. Tell myself. I take a deep steadying breath, look at her, then everyone else, including the boy who struggles out of his aunts arms, and when his aunt let go of him, he runs across the room, past me and into her mother, who is standing in front of me.

"Mommy! Up! Up! Peease?" he says, innocently, undeterred by the atmosphere in the room.

"Christian, as you can see, now is not the right time to talk. My friends are here as well as my dad, we're having dinner and I have this little one to –"

"Then I would like to stay and wait," I cut her off, I'm not fucking leaving. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way, Anastasia," I warn. I want to glare at her but the child's is regarding me with curiosity that I am momentarily distracted. "Either way, we will talk." I finish through gritted teeth.

She blinks, "Uhm…"

"Join us for dinner, Christian," Ray finally say, as he approaches, not protectively as I though he would but with curiosity. Interesting.

"Thank you, Ray," I respond, my voice clip, not taking my eyes off his daughter and the child in her arms. "Well? Aren't you going to introduce me?" I ask, expectantly. She blinks and turns to her son, whose arms tangled around his mother's neck but is studiously looking at me, his happy and smiling blue eyes regarding me with interest and familiarity. She touches her son's face to get his attention, it works, for the child looks at her.

"Christian, this is Theodore Raymond…Steele, everyone calls him Teddy," she says. She smiles weakly, guiltily, tears almost threatening to come out, at me and then to the kid. "Teddy, this is Mr. Christian Grey," she says, gesturing towards me. The child's round blue eyes, meet mine, again he smiles toothily, as if he knows who I am.

"Da-ddy."


	8. Reaction

**Reaction**

Sweet Jesus, Holly mother of… _crap! _

Did he really just said that? I'm pretty sure he did. I gape at my baby boy, still smiling at the man in front of us. The unexpected visitor, who, I might add, is also gaping at my son. Gaping, it seems, is everyone's reaction. Kate, my dad, everyone is gaping at what just happened. My baby boy, my three year old toddler, calling the man in front of him… _Daddy_. The identity of Ted's father has been a mystery to everyone lovingly surrounding him. Except for me, his mom, of course. Those people, my parents and friends, are all eager to know, no – to confirm, from me, if their suspicions are correct. Well, as it turns out, they are asking and nagging the wrong person. And on my case, I can't believe I trusted my secret to a toddler. My sweet three year old, excitedly unleashed the bomb. Not funny.

I groan internally at the word that my baby boy just said. It's supposed to be our little secret. _Damn it!_ A toddler isn't supposed to have a good memory, let alone recognize a person whose face he's only seen in pictures. Right? I mean, come one! Pictures! _Aw hell_. Yea, I'm totally busted. My little teddy bear is out of the bag. And right now, I'm waiting for Ted's father to stop gaping and throw a thermonuclear meltdown. This'll be… tough. Interesting. Fifty shades tough. Again I swallow, clutching my baby closer, holding him like a talisman from the thermonuclear wrath of Christian Grey, my ex-boyfriend/dominant and yes, baby daddy.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Theodore," Christian finally says, cryptically, extending a hand, ignoring the child's earlier word. As usual, I can't read his thoughts as easy as him reading mine. Teddy simply giggles, burying his face on my neck while holding me close. My sweet little boy is now _shy, _after letting out the bomb. The nuclear bomb. _Great._ Way to throw mommy under the bus, kid.

"Aren't you going to say, _hi_, to err… uhm," I whisper to my baby boy, but my brain can't say it the word _daddy, _out loud.

"Daddy," Christian says, dryly, saying the word out loud for me. I look up to meet his icy glare and wish I didn't. Sure, I expected such reaction, not only from him, but from everyone, when I decided to keep my baby all to myself. However, seeing the reaction first hand is different than imagining it. I swallow my fear and guilt and nuzzle the unruly hair of my baby boy, whose face is still buried on my neck.

"Teddy, don't you want to say, _hi?_" again, I try. This time not bothering to try to say the name and like before, I'm rewarded with a glare that I studiously ignore. His excitement and curiosity must have got the better of him, for my baby boy suddenly removes his face from my now goo and sweat filled neck, to face his daddy, take his father's hand, again with a giggle.

_"Hi,"_ he says, shyly but excitedly, then again, he covers his face, this time, with my hair. Silly boy.

"Hello, Theodore," Christian says, still holding his pudgy hand, and regarding my silly boy with interest. My boy simply giggles. At least that's what I hear as he basically pulled my hair to cover his rosy face.

"Mommy, pasta, pease?" Teddy suddenly murmurs, completely ignoring the man and the situation he just created. I almost forgot, we're in the middle of dinner when the unexpected visitor arrived. Teddy is in the middle of wrestling a bowl of pasta I cooked, beside his Aunt Katie when we heard someone knock on the door. Of course, the visitor is not just any kind of visitor. So now, our food has gone cold and so is everyone's appetite, except for the Teddy Bear. Ruled by his chubby tummy, this little one. And right now, his voice is a few seconds away from throwing a fit. Much like what our visitor is about to have. Like father, like son, I suppose.

"What did he say?" Christian asks, breaking me out of my inner monologue.

"Teddy was tackling a bowl of pasta, when you came," I explain. I don't wait for his answer, I search for the next available person and found my dad, regarding us, no doubt sensing the thermonuclear fifty in front of us.

"Dad, will you take Ted back to his pasta?" I ask and he willingly replies.

"Of course," he says, hurrying to my side, reach his arms and my baby boy willingly goes with him. "Would you like us to bring you some food, while you err… talk?" He asks, I shake my head, helplessly. Time to face the music, or in this case… the crap – I mean, the wrath of Christian Grey. I need a drink or five.

"No thank you, Ray," he says, politely. His discerning gaze not leaving mine.

"Okay, call me when you need something. We'll get back to the pasta," Ray says, more to the little one than me. I watch him, his blue eyes regarding this non-stranger with curiosity. He is, without a doubt, surprised to see him in person, other than the pictures I've shown him back in New York. Yes people, I may have left the father of my child, I may have hidden the pregnancy from him, I may have ignore the pleas from the ones close to me, the one who knows about my pregnancy, and It may look like I don't give a damn about my baby not having a father, but looks can be deceiving. Teddy knows he has a dad. He just hasn't seen him in person, nor been with him. Like I said, this was supposed to be our little secret. Apparently, he remembers the person behind the stories and all the pictures I've shown him and I certainly didn't see that coming.

"Were you _ever_ going to tell me?" he asks, as soon as everyone's left Kate's living room. I sigh. And so it begins.

"No, err.. yes... I assumed something will happen and you'll start doing your stalkery. I just didn't expect it to be this soon," I say, matter-of-factly. It's true. He has the means to do whatever he wants, stalking is one of them, and I definitely know because I was subjected to one, the moment we met.

"So, it's true?" he says through gritted teeth. I'm forever thankful that there's a curious toddler on the other room, otherwise, I would not get this calm demeanor and hushed voice. Though I know that I definitely don't deserve it. Still.

"Which bit?" I ask, dryly. I don't mean to rile him up. I certainly know what he's talking about, I just want to hear him say it.

"What the child said, is it true? Is he mine?" He clarifies.

"Tell me, Christian, what do you think?" I ask. Of course the obvious answer is _yes_. Everyone can see it, why can't he? Or is he in denial? I can't blame him, but still. It's a stupid questions to ask, especially if the kid already called you dad, and the child looks like him. My baby looks like his dad, with a few exceptions.

"Don't answer my questions with another question, Anastasia," he replies, menacingly cold.

"He called you _Daddy,_ What do you think?"

"I'd like to get a paternity test, just to be sure," he says, deliberately. I gape at his response. My shock quickly morphs into defensive range. I guess it's my turn to calm myself down. _How could he? _

"Well then, he is not yours. You can go home now. _Go_," I say, with my best icy glare, fighting the urge to scream bloody murder.

"I'm not going anywhere," he says instantaneously, squaring his shoulders.

"Then what the _fu-_ do you want?" I say, in the lowest voice I can muster, morbidly aware that it's also my turn to grit my teeth. _I __mustn't_ _cuss_.

"I want answers. I'm not going anywhere until I get them from you," he says, resolutely. Of course he has questions! and he wants answers! Where to begin?

"You want answers? Okay… let's start with your stupid question. _Yes, _Theodore Raymond Steele is yours. There, I said it, out loud, for the first time since I found out. You don't need a paternity test because one look at him, you get your answers. I'm not sure how you can be so flipping blind to see it. Aside from the blue eyes and happy personality that I don't know where he got, he is one hundred percent yours. And if you insist of that flipping test, then you can go. There's no need to answer those stupid questions if you have doubts and you can forget this ever happened," I say, in my best hush/scream voice. Aware that a dam-full of tears is threatening to come out. Three and a half years of anxiety, about him finding out about the real reason why I left. Three and a half years of half waiting, half fearing, he'd show up on my door to tell me that he was stalking me, that he went back on his word about stopping all forms of communication, and that _he knows_. Three and a half years of practicing what I would say and do, word for word, are all for nothing. All because of the two words that came out of him mouth. Paternity Test. A fucking paternity test.

"How can you expect me to believe that he is mine, when you left me? You _left_," he says menacingly.

"Yes, I did. Do you know why? Do you know why I left and didn't bother to tell you?" I ask. He doesn't answer. I'm not sure if he's racking his brains about the proper answer to my question. I'm not sure if he remembers, either. He is just standing, towering me, glaring and taking deep breaths to calm himself.

"I have the right to know," he simply says, after a moment and in that instant, I have my answer. He doesn't seem to remember. He doesn't remember why I left and didn't tell him about my pregnancy.

"Do you remember that time when I forgot to take my pill?" I ask. There's your clue, Grey. Figure it out.

Again he is silent. He simply rooted in place, half glaring at me and, half thinking. He is, without a doubt racking his brains for that memory. When he doesn't answer, I decide to throw more clues.

"You told me that missing a _fu-_… you told me that missing my pill is got to be the most stupid and irresponsible thing to do, and I agree with you. Now, do you remember the accusations and the hurtful words that you said, after you made me promise _never_ to forget to take them _ever_, at which, again, I wholeheartedly agreed with you."

"Ma-ma-ma-ma… mommy!" my baby boy interrupts us, barreling out of nowhere, his Aunt Kate right behind him. He goes straight to me, hugging my legs, tugging my jeans towards his favorite spot, the Persian rug where his toy train is currently parked, waiting to be played.

"He's finished his pasta," she says, apologetically. "Would you like something to drink?" she asks, I shake my head and so do he. As much as I want to chug a bottle of wine at the moment, I do have a lively three year old, still fully awake even though it's almost bedtime, at least for him. Kate nods, as she leaves the three of us, me with my thoughts, Christian with his glare and thoughts as he digest everything that was said and done and of course our baby boy, with his toy train.

* * *

I am a father. A fucking _father_. Those words are all I can think about as I stare at the child, sitting comfortably in the Persian rug, playing with his toy train. His face lighting up with interest and fascination and his eyes shining with delight, as he rolls the toy train around and around. I am seated at the couch while his mother is seated at the chair in front of me. Both of us stare at the child between us as he plays, mumbling jumbled words as he plays. It's just the three of us at the living room of Katherine Kavanagh's apartment, the people who've been here before I showed up are mostly gone. By mostly, I meant Jose, his girlfriend and his father. Only Ray Steele, Katherine and Ethan Kavanagh are the only ones left and the three of them are cooped up in the kitchen, saying hushed words and quietly listening at words or anything that has or hasn't said. So far, no words between us, at least, after the initial discussion that was interrupted by the child barreling from the kitchen to check on his mommy. Yes, I've got some answers to my questions. Some, but not all of them, and right now, I am once again, sitting on my ass, doing nothing but a starring contest. Who would last watching the fascinating little boy, sitting between us and playing with his toy? As the silence progress into waiting, I hear words the others are talking about from the kitchen. Words about, _the truth_ finally coming out, it's all for the best, I can finally tell Mia and the rest of the Grey's and on Kate's case, it's all her fault for me finding out about Teddy. I morbidly agree with all of them.

_"Choo-choo!" _the voice of the kid, my _child_, breaks my reverie. His face turned against me, as he gazes at his mother with delight, while the mother simply smiles fondly. My child, my three year old child, who knows and recognizes his father, much to his mother's surprise. Neither of us have spoken after the kid reveals that he, apparently knows, who his _daddy_ is and his mother, is too stunned to say anything. Frankly, I'm surprised she didn't pass-out or anything. I'm glad she didn't, I have questions. A lot of them. So far, she only ever answered some. Where were we? Oh yes, I still haven't found my voice for what she just told me, the bit about why she didn't tell me. But still…

"I have every right to know," is all I can say, unable to form a coherent thought. I hate repeating myself but right now, I'm too fucking floored to say or think of anything. I'm still reeling from this… revelation.

"Why? So you can tell me to get rid of it? Don't even try denying it," she says, directly, as usual straight to the fucking point with that smart mouth of hers.

Once again, I am floored. I consider her answer. What would I have done, had she told me I got her knocked up? Yes. I do remember what happened that night she told me, she forgot to take her pill. Yes, I remember getting angry, throwing a fit and demanded she see Dr. Greene the next day for a checkup and to ditch the pill for a shot. Do I remember the exact words I said? Oddly, no. I just remember being so damn frustrated and scared and not wanting to be a part of it, if she got pregnant.

"Tell me, if I came to tell you that I was pregnant, what would you have done? What would you have said, Christian?" she prods, head tilted, a delicate brow raised, daring me to answer.

"I wouldn't know, because –" I try to say but she cuts me off.

"Because I didn't give you a chance, yes, I know. I made that choice. I chose not to hear and see your reaction, you know why? Because I've seen it before. I've seen it even though I wasn't even pregnant at the time. I merely forgot to take my pill. One pill and you freaked out, you made accusations, and you told me... you told me that it won't just be my decision on whether or not I should keep it. So yes, I chose to leave. Yes, I know that you have every right to know about this, but I chose not to tell you. I chose to take away your 'right' on whether or not I get to keep my baby. I chose to keep him without you, because I don't want to hear those accusations anymore. I don't want to be labeled as a gold digger and other hurtful things. Frankly, I should've left when you accused me of such a thing, but I didn't and though I thought that by taking the shots on time, instead of the flipping pills, that I would avoid getting knocked up. Unfortunately, I didn't. even the flipping shot didn't help, It happened, so I made my choices and I am living with them every single day."

_"Da – da – da – da, choo – choo!"_ Teddy exclaims, obliviously ignoring us, as he busily plays with the train rolling it, at the coffee table this time.

"You could've told me," I mumble. Considering her words. Considering how I would've reacted had she told me. And the truth is, yes, I would've done the things that she said. I would've accused her of taking advantage of me, of trying to get my money, I would've asked – no, demanded that she terminate it, immediately. Yes, I would've flipped out. Yes, I would've been angry. So fucking angry. But I wouldn't know, she took it away from me.

"Then answer my question, Christian, don't just sit there and glare at me and my son. You can glare at me, blame everything on me, but don't include my son. It's not his fault."

"Our son," I say automatically.

"He's not, when the first thing that comes out of your mouth is a flipping paternity test!" she retorts. Ah… yes, I almost forgot about that.

"What do you expect me to say? You took him away for three years never told me."

"Look at him and tell me why you need a paternity test. If you're still insisting to prove whether or not he's yours then, we have nothing to talk about, there's the door. Go," she says resolutely.

"I told you, I'm not going anywhere," I say with a glare.

"Then stop asking for a paternity test!" she says, almost shouting now.

"Mommy?" we both turn to look at the boy, our referee.

"Yes, baby boy," she says, affectionately, swallowing her tears as she attends to the curious boy. For a moment, I thought he's going to ask if there's something wrong. But the boy simply smiles, and continues with his toy, rolling it around as he crawls, crawling away from us and into the kitchen. I hear everyone coo at the sight of the boy.

"He's probably hungry again. He does that whenever he wants to eat or a drink. Run to the kitchen and look for milk or cookies and Grandpa Ray brought some cookies so…"

"I see," I say, noncommittally.

"I don't know what else you want me to say, Christian, I told you everything already, the whole story. I refuse to make my baby undergo the paternity test just to prove something to you. I don't need your money, I think the three years and my silence is proof enough that I don't need a cent from you, so… as you can see, he knows you, though that came unexpectedly, other than that, I don't know how else to move on after this," she says.

"How does he know?"

"I don't know. The only thing I can think of is that he is smart to recognize you from the pictures from business articles. Yes, contrary to everyone belief that I refuse to tell him about his father, I show him pictures of you at the society pages from time to time, you did a brief interview at Forbes TV, and we watched it together but he is only a few years old."

"Does anyone know about this? About the pregnancy? Is that why you left me? Left Seattle?"

"I left you for the same reason I told you, we can't provide each other's needs. I only omitted my pregnancy. Yes, the biggest reason why I moved to New York was you finding out about it and I didn't want any of the drama. Did I tell anyone? No. I'm too scared to tell my parents, I don't want Ray barging into your office to tell you that you knocked me up. So I waited, I was on my second trimester when I finally told them and I begged them not to ask about the father. I didn't want to tell my friends, but they found out anyway, on different circumstances. Kate found out when I was already in labor. Jose, found out when my boss hired him for a shoot, he barged into my office and met Ted, he was eight months old. And finally, Ethan, he only ever met Teddy last week."

Ray walks into the room, walking hand in hand with Teddy, his train replaced by a bottle of milk that he is busily drinking as his grandfather leads him back to his mother's waiting arms, but the kid has other plans. He struggles from his mother's arms and walks, with his bottle still latched on his mouth, towards me. Instinct starts to kick in, I reach for him and lay him beside me, initially, but instead of laying still where I put him, he crawls and settles into my lap. The kid is on my lap. _My son _is sitting on my lap, the bottle of milk still latch onto his mouth, his round, happy blue eyes dancing merrily_. _I smile at him, tentatively, his answering smile could melt even the coldest of heart. Just like his mother's smile. Yes, aside from his smile, the eyes and happy personality, this child is _mine_. Frankly, I don't know where that paternity test came from. I'd just be wasting money and time. He raises one hand to touch my face. I freeze, he blinks and then smiles.

"_Daddy,"_ he says, for the second time. I just stare, mesmerized. I feel… warm, on the inside. On my periphery, I see Ana, looking up and blinking away the tears.

"There's still so much to talk about," I finally say.

"I know," she murmurs.

"I'd like him to meet my family," I say. And just like me, they're going to have a ton of questions

"I know that. I have a lot of explaining to do," she says, contritely.

"Good. And I'd like you and Teddy to stay with me for the night."

The words are out before I can do anything. I look at Ana and see the same reaction she had when she saw me, shock and horror. Three swift knocks on the door interrupt our moment. Then followed by murmured voices – familiar voices, hounding Taylor to let them in. Right on cue, Ethan comes out from the kitchen, his phone on his ears. He stares at the three of us, his look tells me that he has already informed my sister about this. Somehow, I get the feeling that he's been wanting to tell me and the rest of the family since he found out. And based on the persistent knocks, it looks like the night isn't over just yet.


End file.
